


Holding On for Dear Life

by oddsnends



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Illness, Implied Sexual Content, Medical, Sexual Content, ileostomy, ostomy, ulcerative colitis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26461741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsnends/pseuds/oddsnends
Relationships: Hvitserk (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Hospitals, yuck! 

Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone? 

Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home. 

Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital. 

This time, he refused to leave. 

“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital. 

“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away. 

Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.” 

“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning. 

His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months. 

“Hvits,” Emmer whined. 

“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch. 

Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events. 

Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen. 

She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car. 

“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her. 

Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through. 

Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why? 

So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom. 

Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating. 

Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided. 

“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?” 

Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short. 

Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling. Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open. 

No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain. 

“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”

“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern. 

“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.” She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something. 

“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.” 

“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.” 

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle. 

“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him. 

“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.” 

“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.” 

“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards. 

“Your dad still seeing Yidu?” 

“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?” 

“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?” 

“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.” 

“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?” 

“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.” 

“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.” 

“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?” 

“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!” 

“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?” 

“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.” 

“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.” 

Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.” 

“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet. 

“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back. 

Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier. 

Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off. 

Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away. 

In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4. 

Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...

Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang. 

“Hel-”

“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone. 

“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”

“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.” 

“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.” 

“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?” 

“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.” 

“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.” 

“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.

It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused. Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother. 

Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Hvitserk wished he had stayed at Emmer's, avoiding his brothers at all cost. 

Ivar found him sooner than he had wanted. 

Walking into his apartment, he had expected to find Ubbe had left, another mess in the kitchen or living room, instead it was Ivar waiting for him. Stretched out on the corner sofa, the leather supple and worn, ivar glance over his shoulder when the apartment door opened. A downside to allowing your family to have keys. 

“Nice of you to remember that I exist.” Ivar reached for the remote, turning down the television. 

“Nice of you to break in.” 

“I didn't break in.” Ivar countered with a shrug. “I have a key. Besides, this is my apartment, too.” 

“No, it's not.” Hvitserk kicked off his shoes and walked to the open kitchen. Pulling out a jug of orange juice, he found a glass in the sink. “You moved, your choice. It's mine and Ubbe's now.” 

“Whatever, my name is on the lease.” 

“No it's not. Ubbe and I changed that.” Hvitserk rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Ivar?” 

“Ah,” Ivar grabbed for his crutches, taking a moment or two to stand. Slowly thumping across the apartment, his dark hair pulled back from his face show casing his blue eyes. Glinting at his older brother, he smirked. “Well, I have a date next week. She has a friend in town and...” 

“No.” Hvitserk ended that idea in it's tracks. He would not be the third wheel, forcing his way in with some poor girl, who didn't want to be there as much as he did. “I refuse. Ask Sigurd or Bjorn. Fuck, ask dad. I am not doing it.” 

“You owe me.” 

“Yes, I do, but I will not entertain some poor girl, because you want an attempt at fucking some chick.” 

“Well, how sweet of you, brother. Boost my confidence, why don't you.” Ivar groaned, sliding onto a chair at the small table in the corner. “Emmer have your balls tied that tight, does she?” 

“Nobody has my balls, but me, which is why I am saying no. I am not going. Change your date, fuck them both, whatever works. I'm not doing it.” 

The last time Hvitserk did Ivar a favour of this caliber, he had the most miserable night of his life. First the date that Ivar was with would not stop hitting on Hvitserk, increasingly pissing off Ivar. The friend that she had brought for Hvitserk ignored him, when she did speak to him it was only to ask him how much longer of this hell they had left. Then there was the spilled wine, all over Ivar and the waiter. Ivar's date cleverly insisted on helping clean Hvitserk – who had no wine on him, some clean up. More like an excuse to rub his junk. 

Nope. 

Hvitserk refused to do it again. 

“You owe me.” Ivar's glare narrowed at his brother. 

“Too bad. I'm not doing it. I – I can't.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I am seeing someone and it wouldn't be appropriate.” Hvitserk shrugged, using his cover story as casually as possible. Taking a large gulp of his juice, he clicked his tongue to his teeth. “Sorry, man.” 

“Cut the bullshit, fucking your best friend doesn't count.” Rolling his eyes, Ivar huffed and tapped his fingers on the table. 

“Fuck off, Ivar. Go home.” 

“Your excuses are lame.” 

“I'm not doing it,” Hvitserk shook his head, standing straight. “Forget it, I will do whatever else you want, but I will not do that. Now, go home. I'm exhausted and I want to sleep.” 

Ivar was worse than a damn gnat, buzzing around, getting in the way and never leaving no matter how much you swatted at him. Hvitserk finished his juice, rinsed his glass, and waved to his brother. If he had a key to get in, he could lock up when he left. At the table complaining that his brother was shitty company, Ivar ignored that he was being left alone. 

Shutting his bedroom door with a heavier than needed thud, Hvitserk sighed and rubbed his hands against his face. Fishing his phone from his pocket, he checked it to see if there was any new updates from Emmer. Her social media was quiet and no texts. She must have gone back to sleep, like Hvitserk had directed, once he'd left her. Stripping off his jeans and tshirt, he scratched his chest and flopped face first down on his bed. 

This is where he was going to stay until he could fully function again. 

Closing his eyes, stretched out on his bed, Hvitserk groaned into his pillow when his phone buzzed. Blindly reaching for his phone on the table beside his bed, he lifted his head, rolling onto his back. The screen flashed with a new text. 

Emmer. 

Informing him that she was obeying his orders, had been sleeping most of the afternoon, not leaving her bed only for more tea and a bathroom break. 

Hvitserk smiled, seeing that she was actually listening this time and getting the rest she needed. Telling her that he was highly impressed and would see her later, he placed his phone back and sighed. Content to finally get a good sleep. 

Unsure of the time or where he even was, Hvitserk jolted awake in a startling manner. His phone ringing had brought him from a deep sleep. Rubbing his eyes and reaching blindly for the phone, he felt his heart spike seeing Emmer's name on the screen. 

“Hello?” He tried not to sound like he'd just woke. 

“Are you coming back over?” Emmer didn't seem to notice, or perhaps care, she had woke him. 

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. I mean, you don't have to, but I thought we could watch some movies. Hang out.” 

“Uh,” Hvitserk looked at the clock, “yeah, sure.” 

“Alright, cool. I'll see you when you get here.” 

“See you soon, Em.” Hvitserk ended the call, laying in bed rubbing his face. Arm slung across his face, he winced hearing a loud thud in the kitchen. Fucking Ivar. 

Clean clothes, his hair pulled back neatly, Hvitserk prepared himself to kick Ivar out a second time. In the kitchen, sucking the tip of his thumb and wincing stood Ubbe. Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk shook his head. There was a reason why he did most of the cooking. 

“Sup?” He tipped his chin to his older brother. 

“Fucking can dropped.” Ubbe cursed the can of soup sitting on the counter, below the cupboard it fell from. 

“Huh, put some ice on it.” Hvitserk shrugged hoisting himself onto the counter. Watching Ubbe try to end the throbbing. “So, what's up?” 

“Same shit. Where have you been?” 

“Emmer's. She called last night, emergency.” 

“How'd it go? She okay?” 

Hvitserk shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “Probably a bit sore for another day or two, but she's good otherwise.” 

“Are you going back there?” 

“Eager to get rid of me?” Hvitserk eyed his brother curiously. 

Ubbe chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “No, I was just wondering is all. If you're not going to be home, then I will turn shit off when I go out is all.” 

“Hot date?” 

“Dinner with Floki and Helga.” 

“Ah, right.” Hvitserk stretched his arms over his head, turning his head from side to side to relieve the tension. “I may go back over, see what she's up to. So, if you do end up bringing someone back, don't worry about me.” 

Ubbe never did, unfortunately for Hviterk. 

More than once, the older Lothbrok had brought home a lady friend. More than once, Hvitserk had been subject to listening through the walls. Their apartment was decent, though the walls still slightly too thin. Shaking the thoughts, Hvitserk grabbed his jacket and keys, wishing Ubbe well. 

The drive to Emmer's gave Hvitserk fifteen minutes and forty seconds of alone time. He could take this route by memory with his eyes closed, not that he ever would. He chuckled to himself. Emmer's building wasn't as lavish as Hvitserk's, but it was certainly cozy. Parking in the designated guest spot, next to Emmer's car, he grabbed his things and closed his thoughts for the time being. 

Not bothering to let her know he was there, using his key made coming and going easier. Up four floors, Hvitserk followed the hall from the elevator to the back of the building. 

Walking through the door, he dropped his bag on the couch. 

“I'm here.” He called hearing the water running in the bathroom. 

“In the shower,” Emmer called out the obvious. She had probably showered several times today, allowing the hot water to ease any pain or tension in her body. 

Walking to the bathroom door, Hvitserk poked his head in. The hot water steaming the room. “How do you feel now?” 

“Better, thanks.” 

“Good. So how was your day?” 

“Not bad, I slept most of it. I'm still feeling it, but didn't want to be alone. Thanks for coming over, by the way.” The water shut off and the curtain pushed back, Hvitserk adverted his eyes for a moment. Grabbing her towel from the rack, Emmer wrapped it around her body. 

“Good. I went home, had an argument with Ivan and went to sleep.” 

“Sounds productive.” Emmer giggled. 

“If he asks, we're back together.” 

“Okay, whatever you say.” Emmer scoffed. “Was it that bad?”

“He wants me to go on a date with some chick I have never met.” 

“Right, are you going to go?” Emmer twisted her hair into a bun. 

“Nope.” 

“Could be fun,” She stood nearly toe to toe with Hvitserk. Only a few inches shy of being eye to eye. 

“I hate you sometimes.” 

Tapping the tip of his nose, Emmer shrugged, brushing by him. Shivering as the air hit her skin, she moved across the short hall to her bedroom. Turning around, Hvitserk leaned against that door frame instead. He'd seen Emmer naked more than once, but this still felt a little awkward. Staring at the floor, when she dropped her towel, he followed the lines on the wood flooring to keep him occupied. 

“So, why don't you want to go on this date? And why did you tell him we were together?” Emmer asked, her voice muffled by the shirt she pulled over her head. 

“Because I don't think it's a good idea. I don't know this woman, she doesn't know me. What if we hate each other? Her night and mine gets ruined.” 

“What if she's lovey, you end up married and having ten kids?” 

“What if she's an axe murderer?” 

“What if she's the love of your life?” 

“Not possible. She's a friend of someone Ivar is interested in. She's likely shallow, self absorbed, and as smart as a bag of rocks.” 

“Judgmental,” Emmer snorted digging through her drawers for clean shorts. Locating a pair of soft sleep shorts, she grabbed them and pulled them on. “As your fake girlfriend, I think you should go. We can fake break up and you can be fake devastated.” 

“You're still on drugs,” Hvitserk teased, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “I will forgive you this once.” 

“I'm serious,” Emmer placed her hands on her hips. She would be easier to take seriously if she didn't have a giant wet spot on the front of her shorts. 

“You look like you peed your pants.” Hvitserk snickered. 

“Fuck off,” slapping him on the shoulder, Emmer shook her head, grabbing for her towel. She'd thought she had dried her pouch off enough not to leave giant wet spots. Pushing the front of her shorts down, she pulled the tan coloured pouch from her shorts and gently rubbed the towel against it. “Look, all I am saying is you should get back on the horse. Go on the date, it could be fun.” 

“Fun? How much morphine did they give you?” 

Satisfied that her pouch was dry enough, Emmer tucked it back into her shorts. No sense changing, why make another pair wet. Sometimes it was a vicious cycle. 

“Have some adventure, Hvits. You never know.” 

“I do know,” He leaned in closer, wrinkling his nose at her and making a face. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. “Look, I don't want to go and I knew if I said we were together, then he would back off. Can we talk about something else?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I suppose.” Emmer smirked rolling her eyes. “So, Alfred called me.” 

“Alfred?” Hvitserk's interest piqued. 

Emmer nodded and hummed. “He wants me to talk to some new patient, or something. Anyway, he said hi. He's doing well, with everything that has happened with his step-dad. He wanted to thank your mom and dad for helping and sending such lovely flowers.” 

“Well, they did what they could. But, I will tell them. Man, it's crazy to think that a fucking bee sting. Wow.” Hvitserk whistled. 

“Life can be short, my dear Hvitserk.” Emmer shrugged, tossing her towel in a hamper, she led the way to the kitchen. “I just can't imagine, one minute he was there and the next he was gone. Did they even know he was that allergic?” 

“Apparently not.” Hvitserk followed her closely. 

“I didn't know him, I had only met him once or twice.” 

“My dad used to be good friends with Alfred's grandfather. He knew his step-dad pretty well, I don't know that he liked him. But he knew him. I remember him from when I was little, we would go over there.”

“Mmm,” Emmer nodded pulling out two glasses and a jug of apple juice. “Ivar and Alfred are pretty tight, aren't they?” 

“Uh, well they were until tenth grade. When Ivar had the hots for some chick, but she went to winter carnival with Alfred.” 

“Your brother is so strange,” Emmer took a drink of the juice, licking her lips. “Thanks, by the way. For being the sane, normal man in your family. I would say sane, normal member, but Gyda is way more stable.” she snorted. 

“Any time you want her to be your best friend, I will happily move aside.” Hvitserk raised his glass in a cheers style, with a smirk. 

“Oh Hvits,” Emmer leaned over, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “I could never replace you.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I have decided that I hate your brother.” Emmer declared. 

“Which one?” Hvitserk raised his eyes from his phone. 

“Ivar,” Emmer groaned, flopping down on the couch beside Hvitserk. 

“What did he do now?” 

“He's been texting me all week. He's mad at me, because you said you wouldn't go on that stupid date.” Emmer chuckled, “told you that you should go.” 

“No.” Hvitserk shook his head, putting his phone down before he sent Ivar a rather nasty text. 

“Then tell him that you lied, we're not together, and to stop texting me.” 

Shaking his head, Hvitserk sighed. If that would actually work, he would do it. Ivar was relentless when he wanted something, his brothers often blamed their mother for that. Ever since Ivar was a small child, he was never told “no” and meant it. As he grew older, Hvitserk seemed to be the one to tell him the two letter word the most. 

“You know that is useless, but when I see him,” Hvitserk smirked, “I will tell him that you said fuck off.” 

“Fuck you.” Emmer shoved him in the arm, laughing when he nearly fell over. 

“I mean here? In the living room? What if someone saw?” Holding a hand to his chest, Hvitserk gasped. 

“Why are we friends?” 

“Because you will never find another person as amazing, fantastic, or handsome as me.” Hvitserk continued to laugh. 

Emmer rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him. No matter how much she joked, Hvitserk would never be replaced and they both knew it. Snuggling into the fleece blanket on the couch, Emmer snickered and laid over with her head on Hvitserk's lap. Closing her eyes, she hummed happily. 

“Seriously, why don't you go and Ivar will stop terrorizing us all.” 

“Because, I don't want to, and Ivar needs to learn that he isn't the boss of everyone.” Hvitserk gently ran his hand over Emmer's arm. 

“You Lothbrok men are impossible.” 

“We are, it's a trait that had been passed down through generations. From our ancestors, all the way back to when our family were fierce and ferocious Vikings.” he snorted at his own attempt to be a master story teller. 

“Sure, sure. Of course, Vikings. And my family lived with King Henry VIII.” Emmer snorted. 

“Could be possible.” 

“Unlikely, but sure why not. Who told you that you were Vikings?” 

“My dad.” 

“Of course he did.” Emmer giggled. Leave it to Ragnar to come up with an elaborate story about his family's history. Anything to make himself seem interesting and slightly more important than his brother. “How are your parents anyway? Alfred asked me about them this morning, I just told him that they were doing fine. I guess I really haven't seen them in a while.” 

“Mom is still mad and dad is still attempting to sow his seed in foreign fields. Same old shit.” Leaning forward, Hvitserk reached for his glass of water. “So yeah, they're fine. Mom is trying to get us together this weekend, for dinner on Sunday. Do you want to come?” 

Emmer scrunched up her nose, gently shaking her head side to side, as if really weighing the outcome to her next words. “Eh, sure.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Unless, you're asking me because you think it will be a good chance to show Ivar that we're actually together. Then no.” She tilted her head, looking up at Hvitserk with innocent eyes. 

“I was just thinking it would save you from cooking.” 

“Then I shall be there. What time?” 

“I'll pick you up.” Hvitserk left the details vague, mainly because he wasn't sure that this was even a dinner open to friends. Ah well, he'd tell his mother that Emmer was coming right before they arrived. Aslaug was always happy to see Emmer, anyway. 

If Emmer was present, then whatever bullshit his family was going to be thrown into, would be mild. They behaved better when there was someone to watch them. Not that Emmer would care. She would never judge, but she enjoyed watching the Lothbrok drama unfold. They were way more entertaining than her own family. 

Her parents were divorced and hadn't spoke to one another since she was seven. They were never together and it seemed like both sides were happier that way. Whatever. 

“Anything I should bring?” 

“Yourself.” 

And the biggest bottle of the strongest alcohol she could find. That went without saying. 

“Aww, well then I think I can manage. Oh, what about some of those flowers your mom likes? The purple and pink ones that I got her for her birthday?” 

“If you want.” 

“I'll pick some up this week. Also, do I need to dress up or can I come casually?” 

“Casual is probably best. Hell, come in your pjs for all my mother will care.” 

Emmer's eyes lit up and her shoulder shook with a hidden laugh. “I sleep naked, you know. Are you sure?” 

“Well, I've seen you naked. And so has Gyda. What's the rest of my family?” 

“Ah, well, when you put it that way...” Emmer winked and burst into a fit of laughter. 

“You're terrible.” 

“Details.” Emmer smirked, groaning when her phone buzzed on the table beside her. No doubt it was Ivar, again. “What's it say?” she asked Hvitserk. Leaning forward to see the screen, Hvitserk picked up the phone. 

“It's my brother,” He handed the phone to Emmer. “Bjorn, not Ivar.” 

“Still annoying, but he signs my paycheck.” Emmer sat up, her head leaving Hvitserk's lap, in favour or reading a text from Bjorn. 

The eldest Lothbrok child, via Ragnar's first marriage, Bjorn had set the bar for the rest of his brothers. With the exception of Gyda, who could burn the world down and Ragnar would still insist she was the greatest child in the family. Everyone lived in the shadow of the great Bjorn Lothbrok. A former athlete turned businessman, he ran his own company in partner to his uncle, Rollo. 

Emmer had taken on a job with Bjorn, because it allowed her to work at her own pace, even when she wasn't feeling the best. Bjorn took into consideration that his Online Marketing Director – unofficial title – would have days where she wasn't up for an office job, or even weeks where she may not go further than her couch. He never put pressure on Emmer and was rather fair with the hours he expected her to work each week. 

“Mmm, I have said nothing, but your dad isn't going to be happy.” 

“Why?” 

“According to these details that Bjorn has sent me, it seems your uncle is buying part of Bjorn's share in the company. Didn't your dad want Bjorn to sell that to Ivar?” 

“Probably, fucked if I know.” Hvitserk grumbled. He stayed away from business. He preferred to work two jobs, making ends meet. His first job was a cook at a brunch cafe downtown. When he wasn't there, he worked part time coaching youth league football. The odd time he would coach one on one. 

“I guess we will find out soon enough.” 

“You will probably know before me, but if this comes up during dinner, we're sneaking out the back.” 

“Deal.” 

No strangers to dodging dinner drama, Emmer would sit around all night watching the family implode, if Hvitserk would let her. The typical Lothbrok dinner drama started with Ivar and Sigurd in a fight. Or when Ragnar invited his ex wife and didn't tell Aslaug. An argument over business would be far less entertaining. 

Hvitserk loved dinner with Emmer's family. He had yet to dine with them and witness a fist fight before the food made it onto the table. 

The first time Emmer had ever been to dinner at the Lothbrok's, she had witnessed Bjorn and Ubbe in a fist fight during dessert. Someone thought it was a good idea to tell everyone that Bjorn's ex wife had been sleeping with Ubbe. Never had Emmer been so delighted to witness a fight. Odd, but she enjoyed the chaos. 

Currently Bjorn was separated and Ubbe was divorced. Although, it would be amusing if Ubbe was sleeping with Bjorn's new girlfriend. Who was Emmer kidding, Gunnhild was way too smart to fuck Ubbe, while dating his brother. 

“Should I make brownies?” Emmer glanced at Hvitserk. Hvitserk shrugged. “You know, for dinner on Sunday.” 

“If you want. I mean, you can make them right now. If you want, I won't pass up on brownies.” Hvitserk laughed, tapping his hand against his shockingly taught tummy. How he stayed so lean, was the world's greatest mystery. 

“Or, you could make them and I will dictate how.” 

“No, I'd probably burn the place down.” 

“Says the man who works in a restaurant.” Emmer sat up. “Does your boss know this?” 

“Shh,” Hvitserk held his finger to his lips. “It's supposed to be a secret.” 

Brows raised, Emmer nodded lightly. “Ah, got it. Your secret is safe with me.” Shoving her shirt sleeves up, she stood, stretching. 

“I'm touched.” Hvitserk leaned back on the couch, covering his head with his hands. “You're the best.” 

“Am I, or do you only say that when you want something?” Sticking out her tongue, Emmer teased him. 

“Always. You know it, don't be difficult.” 

“Sure, sure. I am going to make brownies, then I am going to reply to Bjorn. After that, I need more details on who is coming to dinner Sunday.” 

The guest list had zero impact on Emmer, her attendance, or the dinner. She only wanted to know, to sit around the rest of the week trying to figure out who would be the first to cause drama. From Hvitserk's knowledge she had the usual suspects. His parents, siblings, Emmer, family friends Floki and Helga. Bjorn's kids, would possibly be there, and that was it. 

Sunday morning, Emmer woke earlier than usual to bake a pan of brownies. Not wanting them to be too hot when she arrived at the Lothbrok's. Dinner was at three, which meant Hvitserk picked her up around one. Aslaug would surely lecture him if he was any later. 

Despite Hvitserk's insistence that this was a casual Sunday dinner, Emmer put a little effort into looking somewhat decent. A comfortable a line dress, loose enough to fit a pair of men's boxer shorts under neath without showing. A free swinging pouch was nerve wracking for anybody. Emmer would not be caught in the middle of dinner feeling like she was literally about the lose her shit. A light snicker at the latter thought, she swept a quick bit of lip gloss on and she was ready. 

Brownies in hand, flowers, and a small bag with extra clothing – just in case, Emmer met Hvitserk at the door before he had a chance to come in. 

“Wow,” He whistled softly. “I feel under dressed.” 

“You look fine, besides it's not like this is even that fancy. I've had it forever.” Emmer rolled her eyes, locking the door behind them. 

“I know,” Hvitserk shrugged, he had been with her when she bought the poppy red dress. “but you still look lovely. I may need to change.” 

“What's wrong with your jeans and shirt? You look good. May wanna fix your hair a bit, but you look good.” Emmer led the way down the hall. 

Ragnar and Aslaug lived about an hour outside of the city, a small village, where most of the families were well off or pretending to be. Nobody drove anything cheaper than a range rover and every house had a front gate. This had been the house they'd moved into after Hvitserk had left home. Although they kept a room for each of their children, just in case. 

The first time Emmer had came to visit, she'd nearly lost her eyes from their sockets. This house was massive, the yard looked like something from a posh magazine, and inside was elegant but cozy. Stepping inside always felt like walking into a country cabin. 

“Mom? Dad?” Hvitserk called walking into the house. Gyda's car was in the drive, along with Sigurd's. There was no screaming or yelling, which meant Bjorn or Ubbe were bringing Ivar. 

“Hvitserk?” Aslaug called out, hurrying into the entrance. “Oh, Emmer!” Her face turned from anxious to calm and relaxed. “How lovely to see you.” she hugged her son's best friend. “You look lovely.” 

“Thank you. So do you.” Emmer hugged the tall woman, pulling back to hand her the flowers. “These are for you Oh, I love your haircut.” 

Hvitserk rolled his eyes at the exchange. Leave it to Emmer to butter up his mother. 

“I wanted you to know, that I have several dishes set aside just for you.” Aslaug accepted the flowers and smiled warmly. 

“Oh, you didn't have to do that.” Emmer smiled, thankful that Aslaug had tried to make her life a little easier. Sometimes eating food that she didn't have a hand in making was a nightmare. Limited diets were a hassle that nobody should ever have to endure. 

“Non sense, Hvitserk said you were coming and I wanted to make sure you had a choice.” Aslaug gave her a tight one armed hug. “I made it all specific, no need to worry about running into something that you can't have.” 

“Well thank you, really. I appreciate it.” 

“So, mom, anything you need help with?” Hvitserk reminded them that he was still present, not that they seemed to notice during their little bonding session. 

“Get yourselves a drink, make yourselves comfortable, and that is about it. As soon as everyone arrives, we're going to eat.” 

Following his mother to the kitchen, to find a home for the brownies, Hvitserk didn't take long to return. Emmer had been here enough to make herself at home, with or without Hvitserk by her side. The second he had disappeared, she'd headed straight for the living room, finding Gyda. 

“Emmy!” Gyda approached with open arms. “It's been way too long.” 

“Tell me about it.” Emmer hugged Gyda tightly. “You need to come visit, more.” 

“I know, I've been so busy.” She rolled her eyes, “and then there is baby sitting Ivar. I swear to god, I am going to beat his ass some day.” 

“He's been driving me nuts, too.” Emmer shrugged. 

“He told me that you and Hvitty are back together? I am going to need all of those details, because I am all for this.” Gyda winked and smiled. 

Biting her lip, Emmer glanced at her feet. “Uh, well as far as Ivar is concerned we are. Something about Hvits not wanting to go on some stupid date. Anyway, if Ivar asks, we're madly in love.” 

“Got it.” Gyda laughed at the situation. Leave it to Hvitserk to come up with an elaborate lie and drag everybody around him into it. A gift he had inherited from Ragnar. “I won't say a thing.” 

“He needs to get over himself and worry about his own life.” Emmer winced. “Sorry, I know he's your brother.” 

“Details, look don't worry about it. As much as I love him, there are times when he is a pain in the ass.” Shrugging, Gyda dismissed the conversation about her baby brother. “So, what else has been going on?” 

Escaping the kitchen, Hvitserk wandered through to the living room, the house had more rooms than two people ever needed. Whatever, his parents were happy – or some shit like that. Checking his phone, he paused and lifted his head in time to see his dad attempting to sneak out the side door and into the garage. 

“Hey dad,” Hvitserk gave him a short nod. 

“Hvitserk, I didn't know you'd arrived yet. Have you seen your mother?” Ragnar clasped his hand on Hvitserk's shoulder. Giving him a short bro type hug. 

“Yep,” he nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. “So, what's new?” 

“Same shit, you know how it goes.” Ragnar shrugged, stroking his neatly trimmed beard. “Ivar said that you and Emmy are back together.” 

“Uh,” Hvitserk rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, she's here, you know. She was heading to find Gyda.” 

“Good, good. I'm glad she's here. You know, I wasn't surprised you'd get back together. You need to hurry up and marry her already. Make an honest woman of her.” Smirking, Ragnar slapped Hvitserk on the shoulder. “At least one man in this family needs a stable woman.” 

“It's not like that and I don't know that she'd be up for that. Anyway, where you off to?” 

“On my way to pick up Ivar, apparently your brothers have better things to do than drive him around. Want to come?” 

“Not particularly. But, don't let me keep you. Have fun.” Hvtserk waved as he walked away. 

Leave it to his father to try and force his kids into something as big as marriage. Ironic, coming from Ragnar, seeing as his marriages had both fell apart. Aslaug refused to sign the papers, which was the only reason they were still legally together. Whatever, Hvitserk didn't want to try and figure that out right now. 

He loved both of his parents, despite their downfalls. 

As suspected, Emmer and Gyda were cozy in the den. Curled up on either end of the plush sofa chattering away, while Sigurd sat in the corner playing with his old guitar. Seeing Hvitserk first, Sigurd acknowledged him brother with a slight head bob. Returning the nod, Hvitserk bee lined for the small bar in the corner. 

Mixing a gin and tonic, a vodka and soda, and cracking two beer he handed Sigurd the gin first. Sauntering over to Emmer and Gyda he held out the beer. “Ladies.” he passed them over, before grabbing his drink. 

“Hey Hvits.” Emmer smiled moving to make room. 

“Looked like you ladies could use a drink. Dad is on the way to get Ivar.” 

“Thank you.” Emmer kissed him on the cheek, she smiled sweetly. If Ivar thought they were together, she was going to sell it. 

“What was that for?” 

“For being you.” Emmer wrinkled her nose, leaning into his side. Hiding her face in the crook of his neck. God he smelled good. “Selling it for Ivar, whenever he arrives.” She whispered and giggled. Hvitserk nodded and licked his lips. “So,” she leaned back giving him another kiss, this time on the neck. “How does that sound?” 

“Like you're about to get us into trouble,” Hvitserk took a drink and swallowed hard. “But I like it. I think it's doable.” 

“Guys, can you two do this elsewhere? I don't need to see you sucking face.” Sigurd groaned. 

“Fuck you,” Hvitserk flipped his brother off. 

“Boys,” Emmer wagged her finger at them, in a mock sternness. “Don't make me separate you.” 

“Sigurd, stop being such a pain in the ass.” Gyda stood, dropping herself onto the arm of the chair where Sigurd sat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed his cheek hard. “One pain in the ass little brother is enough.” 

“You need to stop treating me like I am five.” Sigurd groaned, laughing when she ruffled his thick red hair. 

“And you need to mind your own business.” Hvitserk quipped, sticking out his tongue. 

“You two are morons. But I love you both, anyway.” Gyda sighed, taking a drink of her beer. “Come on, Sig. She nudged her brother in the shoulder. “Let's go see what trouble we can get into, so these guys can suck face without making you vomit.” 

Once they were alone the lovey dovey act would dissipate faster than Ivar in a genuinely good mood. Giving Hvitserk and Emmer a wink, Gyda guided Sigurd out of the room and around the corner.


End file.
